


panacea

by yurigakuen



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Amputee Peridot (Steven Universe), Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Online Dating, Prosthesis, side jasper/lapis lazuli
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 10:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15639339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yurigakuen/pseuds/yurigakuen
Summary: Peridot knows communication is hard.





	panacea

 

The pillow was absolutely ruined at this point. Peridot, however, couldn’t bring herself to care, and she continued to pull on its loose decorative tassels. Her therapist didn’t seem to mind her damaging the offices property, so why should she? An intake of air brought her attention from her lap to the eyes of the woman sitting across from her.

 

“So, how are you feeling since the last time I saw you?”

 

Peridot internally groaned. This was her least favorite question that she was consistently asked during her sessions. She never knew how to answer it without sounding bitter.

 

“Garnet,” she said, “It’s only been a week. Not much has changed since then. Honest.”

 

The tall woman shook her head. “Have you tried any of the exercises we talked about? The grounding method, or tapping?”

 

Heat crawled its way up Peridots neck, tinging her with guilt. “Well, no. Not yet. I will though! Eventually. I don’t know.”

 

Garnet’s mouth pulled slightly downwards, and Peridot jumped, gripping the pillow closer. “I swear. I promise!”

 

“It’s alright Peridot, not every exercise is going to benefit everyone. They aren’t engaging methods to you, and that’s fine. We can try something else.”

 

Looking at her clipboard, Garnet scribbled down a note. Peridot’s stomach churned. Her therapist gazed at the air for a moment in thought, tapping her pen absentmindedly.

 

“What do you think about completing one small step towards your goal a week? Is that something you would be ready for?”

 

Peridot frowned, apprehensive but not unwilling. “Like what?”

 

Garnet flipped through the sheets on her clipboard.

 

“Well, let’s see. The overall goal you set for yourself two months ago was to find a social group, get a permanent job, and integrate yourself back into college. Would you say you’ve made some progress on it since then?”

 

Her frown deepening, Peridot was embarrassed to shake her head again. “No, not really. Sorry.”

 

Garnet looked at her then and smiled. “No need to apologize. These things take time. But, for now, I want to give you an assignment to help you with your goals so that we can begin the process of achieving them.”

 

“Oh, sure. What is it?”

 

“I want you to make an effort to have one positive social interaction at least once a week.”

 

Peridot’s already light skin got paler.

 

“Wait-“

 

“I want you to know it doesn’t have to be a big exchange. It could be as simple as complimenting someone on their clothes or telling them your name. You don’t need to have a big conversation right away. We should ease you into that. This will warm you up for it. What do you think? Is that doable?”

Peridot squeezed the pillow and grimaced. She really didn’t want to. But at the pace she was going, there was no point to her therapy. She hadn’t tried to apply anything discussed in her sessions to her daily life, and she knew she was only preventing herself from moving forward; but it was just so, so hard.  

 

She saw Garnet’s hopeful expression; she didn’t want to let her down again.

 

“I suppose it wouldn’t kill me.”

 

\--

 

It was killing her. Peridot had tried not once, not twice, but _three_ times already to initiate conversation with other inhabitants of the library. The man who kept walking past the cooking section, the lost woman floundering for the return bin, and the librarian she had a question for- all failures. Each time she opened her mouth, her words evaporated off the tip of her tongue, unheard and ignored. Her mood had not benefited from this.

 

Grumbling, she heaved her bag over her shoulder, and began her trek to Steven’s house. Her legs creaked under her, but she only walked faster. She wanted to vent her grievances as soon as possible, even if the recipient of said grievances was just a kid she babysat a few times a month.

 

Once she had crossed the street and endured the uphill sidewalk, the house finally came into view. She sprinted clumsily to the front door, trampling her fair share of wildflowers on the way, and pounded her fist on the wood.

 

On her fourth obnoxious knock, the door opened, and Steven beamed up at her.

 

“Peridot! You’re early, hi!” The young boy wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed tight despite Peridots protests. He grabbed her by the hand, pulling her inside, and shut the door. “My dad didn’t leave yet, he’s still getting his equipment together. How come you’re here so soon? Not that I mind! More time for our Crying Breakfast Friends marathon.”

 

“Steven, I will not watch that absolute insult to cable television. We can watch CPH together, or you can watch your show alone while I watch mine on my computer in the bathroom. The choice is yours,” Peridot sniffed, “And I finished my errand sooner than expected. So here I am.”

 

Steven was undeterred and continued on happily, “Nope, you promised last time that you would. You pinkie promised. I even checked your other hand for crossies! You’re bound by the pinkie, Peridot, or else you get the needle! Do you want to lose your eye too?”

 

Peridot scowled at his wording, all previous thoughts of what she wanted to say gone. “I don’t know, do you want me to tell your dad that you’re making blood oaths at the tender age of fourteen?”

 

“Pinkie promises are not blood oaths.”

 

“If you’re losing a body part, it’s a blood oath.”

 

“No, it’s a legally binding contract and I’m holding you to it,” Steven blinked sweetly, “or I’ll tell my dad where all of his X-Files DVDs are disappearing to.”

 

She gasped and raised a hand to her chest, indignant. “You wouldn’t!”

 

“I would.”

 

Greg may be a forgiving man, but she doubted he wouldn’t ask for his boxset back. “Fine. We’ll watch your sad excuse for animated entertainment. But I won’t like one second of it.”

 

Steven was already in the living room and setting up the television. “That’s not what you said last time! You told me you wanted to watch it.”

 

She strolled to the couch and collapsed with a sigh, drained. “I was sleep deprived. Obviously not thinking clearly. I may have been borderline delusional.”

 

He fixed her with a pout and waved the remote, “Just give it a chance, please? You might be surprised. It’s complex, you like that.”

 

The blonde snorted, but had no energy left to argue.

 

“Fine, we’ll see.”

 

\--

 

An hour into their viewing session, and Peridot was yet to be impressed. Greg came down to give his son a hug goodbye during Spilled Milks depressing monologue, and when Steven ran to the kitchen for snacks some Grapefruit began throwing a fit.

 

“Steven,” she groaned, “please. Can we do anything, I mean absolutely anything else?”

 

Frowning, he nodded and shut the TV off.

 

“I’m sad you didn’t like it, but I’m glad you at least gave it a chance.”

 

“Yes, well, I try.”

 

She moved to adjust herself on the couch and cringed when a dull pain shot up her right thigh. “Ugh.” Reaching down, she pressed the pressed on the side of her prothesis and wrangled her leg off.

 

“Oh!”

 

Steven, starry eyed, sat next to her on the couch.

 

He pointed at her left leg, “Can I help with the other one?”

 

Peridot shrugged and held out her leg. Smile wide, Steven repeated her previous actions and clicked the prosthetic off her.

 

“So cool. You could put rockets jets in these.”

 

“Absolutely not. Awful idea. Where would the fuel go?”

 

Laying the protheses carefully on the ground, Steven stared at her, inquisitive. “Are they hurting again?”

 

“Sometimes. Mostly it’s just uncomfortable. And before you ask don’t worry about it, I’ll talk to the doctor again soon.”

 

His brows drew together. “Do you want me to ask my dad to give you a ride home when he gets back? That doesn’t sound good. Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Peridot sighed. She did not want to discuss this right now. Not ever, really.

 

“Thank you, Steven, but no, I can manage walking home just fine. Oh,” eager to change the subject, she recalled why she had rushed to Stevens’ in the first place and said, “But you know what I would like to talk about? The unnecessary difficulty of people. They’re impossible. How does anyone manage to maintain a façade of connection these days?”

 

“What?” Stevens nose wrinkled up. “That’s not true. You’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

 

“That’s different, Steven,” she looked at him flatly. “You’re you. You could convince a snake to swear allegiance to you. Even I can’t say that I dislike you.”

 

Shifting closer, the young boy leaned against Peridot and gave her a concerned stare. “So the problem is,” he began, “Is that you want to make a new friend?”

 

Face flushed, she studied the dormant TV and picked at a loose seam in her shorts. “I guess that’s not an entirely inaccurate statement.”

 

With a burst of movement, Steven was up on his feet again and grinning wide. “That’s great!” He darted up the stairs without explanation, leaving Peridot in momentary shock, and came down just as quickly a few moments later. “I was hoping you’d bring that up! I have just the thing.”

 

In his hands was a self-help guide titled, “Others and You: Making Lasting Relationships in the Digital Age,” complete with a sunny illustration of formless humanoids holding hands across the globe. Peridot shuddered.

 

“Wow, thanks, Steven. I’ll be sure to, uh, use this.”

 

He wagged his finger and said, “No no! There’s a specific part in here that I think can help. Here, let me show you.” He sat next to her and opened the book to a dogeared page, clearly well worn, and pointed. “This.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, Peridot read, “ _Shyness has become an epidemic in our modern society.”_ She rolled her eyes. “ _Communication is not like it used to be. But with the progress of technology, that’s okay. Even the most unsociable members of the current era can find solace in online connections. From chat rooms to forums to dating sites, everyone gets to feel a bit more secure behind a screen.”_

 

Blinking, she turned to Steven. “Please tell me this wasn’t your proposed solution.”

 

“It’s a great idea!” He entwined his hands and his eyes gleamed. “It’s how I met Connie, you know! I think it would be a good thing for you. You don’t have to be nervous about messing up as much.”

 

She tried to interrupt, but he continued, “And besides! If it doesn’t work out you can always just move on and block someone. Or, like, ghost them. Not that that’s very nice, but if you have to, you have that option at least. Please! I really recommend it!” He put on the most earnest puppy dog eyes he could muster, and Peridot didn’t have the heart to argue.

 

“Fine,” she conceded, “I’ll try it if it’ll make you happy. But I don’t often frequent forums, so it probably won’t be as successful as you think.”

 

Steven beamed yet again, and Peridot wondered if she should invest in photochromic lenses. “Don’t worry about that! I’ve got you covered!” Fleeing upstairs once more, this time he returned with his sticker plastered laptop. Opening it, he logged in and began typing at a rapid pace. After a moment, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and turned the screen towards her with a grin. “I plan in advance.”

 

Greeting her was an already made dating site profile, and Peridot blanched. “What.”

 

Ignoring her disposition, Steven said, “I’ve already got basic stuff filled in, like your age and name and profile picture. I even wrote a little description for you! But you still should fill out the questionnaire part, that makes it more likely for you to find someone you have stuff in common with.”

 

“Steven! Do you not see that this is a dating site, or have you gone blind?” She rubbed her temples and groaned. “Why did you even make this? When?”

 

Not discouraged, Steven kept smiling. “Some time ago! That doesn’t matter. What matters it that you’re my friend and I’m concerned about you. And, besides, it’s not _just_ a dating site. Look!” He jabbed his finger to the side of the screen. “There’s an option for you to choose what you’re looking for. It’s already set on friends. No need to worry!” He pushed the laptop onto her encouragingly. “Trust me! It’ll work! And,” his smile turned smug, “you already told me you would. No take backs.”

 

With the biggest frown and huff she could conjure, she tolerated her fate and began typing.

 

\--

 

With her bed in front of her, she plopped down and bemoaned the days events. Still wallowing in self-pity, she removed her prostheses and stump socks and let them bump to the ground. She fished her phone out of her bag and, with mild apprehension, allowed herself to check the app Steven had taken upon himself to download.

 

She couldn’t say she was pleased with this turn of events, but it was something she could talk about at her next session at least. Even if it was embarrassing. Her profile was, on second glance, a bit too cutesy for her taste thanks to Steven, brimming with exclamation points and smiley faces, but she didn’t feel compelled to change it just yet. Her icon wasn’t the best image of her either, with her hair sticking out in odd directions and her body contorted in an unattractive pose. Steven just had to use the picture from the bee garden trip, didn’t he? She felt a bit grateful though that it was from the waist up; she didn’t know if she wanted her leg status available on the profile just yet. She sighed, eyes lingering on the app, and figured she could decide which changes to make tomorrow. For now, she wanted to sleep.

 

Then, her phone buzzed and illuminated her hand.

 

As if burned, she launched her phone across the room. It clanked against her desk. Immediately she realized the stupidity of what she had done. Graceless, she fell out of her bed and crawled to it, whispering apologies and pleading with the universe for the damage to be minimal. The screen, though bearing a new diagonal thin crack, was unharmed, and Peridot sighed in relief. Her phone lit up again with a notification and this time she stopped herself from flinging her abused technology. Instead she opened the app, and with hesitant fingers, clicked on the chat feature, finding a bizarre message from a user with a poorly drawn surfboard as an icon.

 

From: lezuli5000

 

_“Hey, I know this is gonna sound really weird, but you look JUST like my old history teacher from middle school. I know that you aren’t obviously, because you’re like, young? And she’s kind of a hag. Not that she’s ugly, just aged. Sorry if that sounds bad, you look young, don’t worry. It’s the hair mostly, I swear.”_

 

Peridot blinked. This was not the kind of opening she thought people sent to others on dating sites. Pushing forward, she read the second message.

 

_“Also, Camp Pining Hearts? I tried to watch that show. It was crazy. It felt like there was a near death experience in every episode. How can you stand it?”_

 

She reread it, a bit indignant to the blatant Camp Pining Hearts disrespect but softened by the sender’s apparent easygoingness. At the very least, it was flattering that someone had actually shown enough interest in her to read her profile.

 

In turn, she opened lezuli5000’s but learned almost nothing. Her description only stated that she “liked reading, swimming, and making crappy clay sculptures,” and her answers section was empty. She did, however, have a photo besides her main profile icon. It was blurry and shot in bad lighting, but Peridot could make out the gist of it; a close up of the girl’s face, strangely cropped, pulling a grimace as if she’d rather not be documented in such a way. Her hair was blue and choppy, and Peridot decided that she liked it.

 

With some reservation, she clicked back to the chat and began typing out a response, only to delete it, rewrite it, and delete it again. Groaning, she dropped her phone and fell to her side on the carpet. She ran her hands across her face and considered her options.

 

She could ignore the girl with shitty picturing taking skills and move on with her life, or she could risk the embarrassment of trying to hold a conversation with her. Neither scenarios were very appealing to Peridot.

 

She shifted back up into a sitting position and looked down her nose at her thighs. Touching her hand to the abrupt end of her leg, she remembered her promise to Garnet. That she would try harder; that she would put herself out there. Socializing was now a terrifying prospect, an obstacle avoided at all costs, but she knew isolating herself wasn’t healthy.

 

Resignation clouding her features, her mind was made up. If she didn’t have anything new to tell Garnet by her next session, her therapist would give her that disappointed look of hers, and Peridot couldn’t stand the shame she felt because of it. If nothing else, at least she could say with honesty that she tried.

 

Phone gripped in hand, she stared at the screen and contemplated how to phrase her reply politely without boring lezuli5000. This proved to be just as difficult as she assumed it would be.

 

_“Hi. You have nice hair as well.”_

_“Hi, CPH is not bad at all.”_

_“Hi, your taste in TV shows is as bad as your stupid selfie.”_

 

Peridot groaned. Interacting with people was hard and she wanted no part in it. Still, she had to do it. She couldn’t let Garnet down again. Reluctantly determined, she typed,

 

_“Hi. Thanks so much for informing me that I have some kind of Benjamin Button appeal. Does absolute wonders for my self-image, really. Clearly, you must rewatch CPH. The near death experiences add to the suspense, and that creates a rich subtext for the audience to delve into that you seemed to have missed on your first viewing. I implore you to give it a second chance. ”_

There. It wasn’t great, but it was something, and she wasn’t too mean. Garnet would be so proud.

 

With a nervous tap, she sent the message off into the chat and dimmed her phone. She made her way back to her bed and climbed her way to the top. She flopped down onto her sheets, exhausted.

 

Curling in on herself with the device still in her hand, Peridot fell asleep. A second passed and her phone lit up the room once more.

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea how formatting works but i think i fixed it. maybe.


End file.
